I’m really feeling like I’ve been brought back to earth with a bump this week. The Christmas holidays are over, I no longer have any valid excuse to eat a Crunchie for breakfast, I can’t have a glass of Baileys every night and all, well most of the decorations are down. I always find there is one that alludes us every year, you only ever spot it a few days after everything has gone up in the loft and there it stays for the next 12 months. I haven’t taken down ALL of the fairy lights either, it still seems so dark I can’t quite resist their twinkly glow.
The thing I am missing the most though is the slow morning, I really feel like we’ve mastered the art of it these last couple of weeks. For some incredible reason the boys actually sleep past 7am when the house is dark and quiet and people aren’t bustling around. It hadn’t really twigged that I’ve felt quite energetic and relaxed these holidays and now we are back to early starts and rushing out the house I can see that it has been down to that extra hour or so in bed.
I couldn’t help but think how lovely it would be to always live our lives likes that. Getting up when the sky is starting to lighten instead of in the pitch black. We didn’t set alarms if we didn’t have anywhere to be as the children always wake us up. Me and my husband work the usual parent lie in system where one of us gets up with the kids so the other can have a bit longer in bed but as we were sleeping a bit later anyway we’d often get up with the kids together. It became one of my favourite times of the day, the boys are usually pretty happy in the morning after having a good sleep. The squabbles are a little less so they’d potter around and play with their toys. There was no rush to get dressed and I was more than happy to curl up on the sofa with my pyjamas and cosy socks on (new fluffy socks will always be one of my favourite Christmas presents!) Now and then one, or all of the boys would come and sit on my knee and cuddle up and we’d break all the rules and eat breakfast on the sofa.
If we didn’t have any plans for the day we’d have a chat about what to do and where to go, maybe pack a picnic and set off when we felt like it. Either that or I’d bring down the massive tub of Lego and we’d all dip in and out of it, filling requests for cars and space stations. Sometimes I’d just sit back and watch my husband and the boys crouched round the tub of Lego. I’m sure you can imagine that our house can be quite chaotic, sometimes it gets on top of me…I can get stressed out when it gets too noisy or when the mess seems endless. I can feel myself getting angry and have to give myself a breather. On these mornings though I couldn’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be. It seems like total luxury to have the time to just sit and watch them play, to share smiles with my husband when we spot something funny or sweet. It’s like a little secret we are both in on, the feeling that they are yours that brings those spontaneous grins.
I felt a bit of dread as I knew we were returning to old routines and the madness of getting them all out the door for 8.30. When we get back into it all it isn’t as bad as it seems but I can’t help but miss the slow mornings. I can’t help but wonder if we are living all wrong on the days that seem like a constant rush. I hate that sometimes I don’t feel like I’ve really spoke to my husband or played with the boys, that I’ve missed so many little things. Our days seem so much nicer when we can start them off like this but then maybe it wouldn’t seem like such a treat if it was always this way.